


Fall Away

by Trashedbeyondrepair



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha Kim Jongin | Kai, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Omega Oh Sehun, Psychological, So much angst, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, i only read happy ends but i write the sad shit, im soft, sehun needs a hug, selfharm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashedbeyondrepair/pseuds/Trashedbeyondrepair
Summary: Jongin has to admit that he can't tame the Omega they gave into his hands.





	Fall Away

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is inspired by the Song "Fall Away" by Twenty One Pilots.
> 
> I don't know where that plotline came from, but I love it. 
> 
> Please beware of the Trigger-Warnings, please read them carefully. I don't want to step onto anyones feet with that. 
> 
> Once this story is completed, I will morphe the chapters into one big One Shot so stay aware of that.
> 
> I also settled for an ending now; and its not going to be a happy one. 
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________
> 
> Sehun just tried to save himself and Jongin is kind of an asshole.

“I don’t know what the hell to do.” It was silent around his words, while Kim Jongin pushes his hand through his unruly dark hair. The three men that shared a table with him stared him down in silent awe and shock – hearing words of capitulation wasn’t common. Not for a man like him.  
“I threaten him, he doesn’t listen. I raise my hand at him, he doesn’t even flinch. I promise to reward him and he won’t even look at me. I don’t know what that Omegas issue is, but what the ever fucking fuck I do - this kid acts like I’m not even around.” There was a rage underneath the words that startled everybody that had gathered in the headquarted of their organization, his hand resting in his hair, head lowered.   
“Pass that brat on.” That was Minseoks words, the first one that dared to open his mouth since the tall Alpha strode into the room, searing with anger. Passing that brat on? The hell Jongin would do.  
“If I can’t break him, none of your fuckfaces will be able to.” He mutters, his breath heavy as he exhaled once again, trying to keep his pheromones in place. “And if we can’t break him, there’s no use for him. We won’t be able to pass him on to one compatible Alpha.”   
That was the usual procedure – Jongin and the others, known for their extra-ordinary skills when it comes to finding well-hidden Omegas, as well as training them into the submission they naturally should have. But nowadays society had ruined so much. Most them were feisty little things, that decided that they didn’t want to be bred or mated, simply because they wanted to be “strong” or on their own.   
To Jongin, that was stupid and straight away bullshit. With a mind-set like this they risked the next generation of their kind, since they were so rare already. No Alpha nor Beta in this world would have that; and so Jongins Trainings-House became a socially-accepted concept.   
Omegas belonged next to an Alpha that could protect them, while they would carry their children. It was easy as that. Talking back wasn’t needed.   
“You can’t tell me that nothing has worked.” Opposite of him, Suho had his eyebrows drawn together, deep lines forming on the forehead of the older man and head of the health department that provided the health of their Omegas besides their rough treatments and training methods. Jongin threw him a look.  
“I had him starving, for five day, until he blacked out in my pavement. Not a single word. I held him alone, in the dark, for days. There wasn’t a whimper. When I tell him to crawl, he ignores me. If I push him down, he just remains sitting. I can hit him, I can kick him, hell I probably could stab him and that kid simply doesn’t give a single fuck. I can say whatever I want, he won’t listen.” His voice trembled over the last words, the wolf inside of him snarling at the image of the blonde Omega ignoring him. “I had him punished, bleeding, shivering, hell, I was even close to strangling him to death once. I fucking order him to do shit and his Omega doesn’t even lets out a pinch of scent. It’s like interacting with a goddamn corpse.” Jongin missed out on how he bares his teeth with every word he speaks ‘ til there’s nothing more than a deep, threatening growl, that made everyone shiver – just a little.  
Once again it was Minseok who opened his mouth, clear, brown eyes focused on his friend only. “Maybe he’s defect. I mean, he’s only 19, but maybe he’s just.. you know. Not with us.” That was something Jongin had considered already – maybe the little Omega with auburn Eyes and almost white hair was brain damaged, or even retarded. Yet, all medical results where fine; he was fertile and his brain worked in regular ways, as far as everyone in the institute could tell. Nevertheless his eyes ghost over, back to Suho who was rubbing the frame of his glasses a little lost. “Where is he right now?”  
That wasn’t exactly an answer to the unspoked question, yet Jongin sneers out an answer; “ He’s in my home, I gave up on the pavement after a while since this the only way to get that brat to move.”   
That earned him raised eyebrows. He knew. He fucking knew. That wasn’t what this was supposed to be. The Omega shouldn’t even be at his home, yet he was. And he should be in his pavement, in a small cell, strong enough to hold the wolf. Yet he was around the house freely because otherwise he’d just fucking sat in one and the same spot, dying slowly but steadily. And for that his worth was simply too high. Having him dead would mean an entire bloodline of a chosen Alpha would just end right there. It was his Job to provide ready and well trained Omegas, for fucks sake.  
Jongin ran his hands down his face, adding another sentence under his breath. “He hasn’t said a word since I got him.” The desperation was heavy with him. Usually, it would be enough to just growl at the Omegas once to force them into submission and get them ready for obedience-training. But fuck that.   
“I think that boy doesn’t care if he’s alive, or not. I think I wouldn’t either if I came out of the shithole we got him from.” Oh, right. This. His dark eyes flying back to his colleague, he scrunches his nose up, just remembering the day they pulled the nameless Omega out of an old fabric, covered in blood and other body fluids, his hair matted to his forehead, open and freshly closed wounds all over his arms and legs – if they were self-inflicted or caused by their keepers was something that was still unknown. Since that stubborn brat kept his mouth shut the entire time.  
It was the worst case they had in years, of neglected, just hidden away Omegas. He wouldn’t forget that, not when he took down the humans who kept the six man captured for god-knows how long, doing nothing but harm. Those boys could’ve been raised nicely and given to a responsible and strong Alpha; instead they decided to be on their own, to end up in the hands of fucked up humans. Omegas could be so stupid.   
“So what am I supposed to do? Just letting him run? Passing him on nevertheless? None of the shit we do is really consensual, but I don’t want anyone to fuck that boy when he’s not even really here, you know?”   
There was silence following his words, the only sound was Suho scratching himself behind his ear in short, sharp motions; a sign of stress. Eyes on his hands, he ends up throwing them in the air, leaning back swiftly. He was so concentrated on his misery that he almost overheard the words of the doctor, as he decides to talk again. “Maybe you should let him, the next time he tries to kill himself.”   
Silence.  
More silence.   
Jongin snarled at the round, before he left. 

The drive home was silent, his phone resting on his thigh – ready to make a sound when someone would try to leave his house. And with someone he meant that Omega-Brat. Overall, this was a normal circumstance; if he wouldn’t be hoping for the Boy to finally fucking try to run away. To make a move.   
But as the others said already, he doesn’t even try to walk out of the house – Jongin even left the door to the garden open, but nothing. Not a single movement and it made him furious. Why has that boy to be so complicated? So all over the top? Yes, he has been through a giant pile of shit – but why was he unable to just be a good boy then, excited to go home to an Alpha that would take care of him and make him happy. He was like a rag-doll that never did as he’s been told, nor would he submit. It was almost as if the Omega, whose smell clung onto him softly and barely there, died already and the boys body was just trying to follow.  
Even if Jongin himself has not and probably never will have a mate, he knew every Omega enjoyed being around their mate; aswell as he knew how submissive their kind usually was. One glare was enough more than often to get them down and trained. But with his newest tasked? There was no submission, but there was no fire either. Maybe a low blaze, the last straw he held onto when he turned his head away and denied Jongins existence thoroughly. Then again he knew that Suho was right. That kid didn’t care if he died, as long as he died with the last bit of pride still in his hands.   
He sighed, deeply, as he pulled into his driveway, large hands clinging onto the wheel, knuckles turning white. This was a mess and it hurt his pride, the strength of his Alpha suddenly questioned, even if he’d never admit that out loud – no way in hell.   
He wouldn’t give up, not that one. And maybe the kid already knew that, with those empty eyes and sealed lips.

The second he pushed the front-door opened he halted in his tracks, body going stiff. Taken by surprise, the wolf inside his broad chest lifted it’s head with a loud snarl, before he raises his nose in the air and tried to keep his footsteps as quite as possible.   
He wouldn’t bother with that, usually. The blonde usually knows he was home anyways by the sound of the car pulling up at the front day. It has been like this the past weeks – he came home and the moment he entered, the Omega disappeared back into the pavement, only leaving small hints behind that showed he was there – a tousled blanket, a few droplets of blood when Jongin forgot to lock something away the younger could hurt himself with, or a few crumbs of food when he emptied his cupboards. But not once managed the Alpha to catch the Omega upstairs in daylight, without having him pulled there by his hair.   
It was a little like seeing a wild animal in its natural habitant instead of visiting a Zoo or Circus.   
Jaw tense, Jongin tries his best to hold back the overpowering smell of his hidden Alpha and the scent of pure complacency, while he keeps his phone and keys in his hands following the sound of shaky fingers meeting with the old piano he had in his living-room for decorative-purposes. It sounded a little off-set, a little wrong in a home so clinical as his own, but the melody that filled his home wrapped itself around his heart, the second it flooded the empty and liveless rooms.   
His alpha purred.   
He lets his feed carry him on, crossing the empty kitchen. There were left-overs of a sandwich on the counter-top, but he paid no mind, to lured into the music that made him feel so many things at once that he wanted to throw up.   
“I don’t wanna fall, fall away.”   
He was close to falling over when he heard the strange voice, with words that laced around any piece of furniture in his house, as well as around him with cold fingers that sent shivers down his spine, leaving behind strong goose-bumps.   
“I don’t wanna fall, fall away.”   
He never heard anything like this, not once in his almost thirty years now – such a vulnerability, such a sweet, sweet voice. It reminded him of honey and silk, fragile ice and chilling air. Shoulder falling against the wooden doorframe he can’t help it; can’t help staring at the boy sitting on the old and worn-out leather bench, dark eyes focused down onto his pale fingers that almost melted into the keys whenever he played them in a way, so sensual, that for once the Alpha asked himself what it would feel like to be touched by the Omega like this. He continued to stare; not even surprised that the other hasn’t noticed him yet – he was so focused. He was there, in the same room for once. Not just physically, but also mentally. For once, he saw a boy, a passionate, hurt boy that played his piano as if it was the only thing he ever wanted.  
“I keep the lights on in this place. ‘cause I don’t wanna fall, fall away.”  
The late afternoon sun lightened up the room, throwing orange shadows and flames along the floor and the furniture, licking on spots that barely ever saw the light. A few rays got caught in the blondes messed up hair and on his bony shoulder, turning the hair into something not far from a halo, while his body came to seem even more fragile.   
It hurts Jongin on the inside, like a slow fire that ate away almost everything - and he wanted nothing but to walk over and engulf the Omega in his arms for the matter of the moments.   
“I don’t wanna fall away.”   
Until a few moments ago, Jongin hasn’t even been sure if the boy way even able to speak a proper word; now there was his thin, longing voice worming it’s way into his heart and brain. His Alpha let out a low growl, unhappy to be forced to hold back. But neither of them wanted to shy the boy away; not when every word; every syllable full of pain, longing and desperation, made the man shiver and twitch in want. In need.   
Made that was what gave him away in the end.   
The music ended abruptly, blonde heat shooting up with large eyes staring into his the second the Omega sensed his own longing in the room; Jongin cursed himself a little for that. He could’ve described the look in the boys as something close to a deer in headlights; just that there was no fear glistening in those deep-brown seas that locked with his in a matter of seconds. There was surprise, there was a little heat and maybe something close to nervousness, but he couldn’t make sure of that, since it took the boy exactly three heartbeats to go back to an icy, unmoving mask that covered his face, while his bony hands fell back into his lap.   
His Wolf growled louder, almost snarled. And for once it wasn’t the rage about the fact that the younger dared to look at him; it was the rage that he hid his emotions from the male, after showing them so openly before. Instead of keeping his vulnerable state around a strong Alpha, the Omega geared up again. Even if Jongin had never felt anything similar before; with no other guy he had trained; it didn’t feel unpleasant. It was a little surprising, a little out of place. But it felt right and Jongin always did what was right.   
His scent took over the second he allowed himself to, wrapping itself around the figure not even five feet away from him. Usually, this would’ve turned any Omega, maybe even Beta down – down into a reaction of any sorts. But he wasn’t expecting that much anymore – he was greeted with a stoic expression and a scent that was kept so low he couldn’t even say what the boy smelled like besides Omega.   
“You didn’t need to stop.” This was the nicest way to pack it up; the order for him to continue playing and singing while the Alpha was watching. But what was he even playing nice for? He knew it wouldn’t do anything the second the other got up from his bench into a standing position. He was still wearing the T-Shirt from the Institute, way too large for his thin frame, sleeves hanging low from his shoulders. He looked sick and Jongin couldn’t help but to stare down at the scars and barely healed wounds that littered one of the Omegas forearms. They were nasty, some of them infected.   
Jongin had refused to treat them properly; too hurt in his pride that the Omega wouldn’t give into him, no matter what.   
But this method didn’t help either; it wasn’t bugging the male the slightest. It didn’t bother the Omega when he slit his skin with the cap of tuna can that the Alpha hadn’t considered a weapon until that day – he did after he found the boy bleeding on the kitchen floor.   
It was his fault, kind of. All of this. The wounds, some of them from him when he tried to force him to obey, other when he wasn’t careful enough of what he let out around the boy. The bruises faded by now, but they were there – from him aswell. From too harsh touches and too harsh pushes. He doesn’t even want to know what he did to the boy mentally.  
If he just wouldn’t be so stubborn and so unbelievable proud.   
He sighed, deeply, strong arms crossed in front of his chest as he tries to stare the young man down. What a lost cause, what a waste of time. He had more strength then even some other Alphas had and why held admiration for this power after everything, it pushed his frustration even further. It made his job almost impossible.  
They rested like this for a while, just staring into each others eyes, no one willing to break away, to give in. The whole situation was childish, honestly. But he wasn’t a loser. So he wouldn’t be the first to shift his gaze away.  
He was the first to look away.   
Only a little, orbs flickering back to the others forearms, but he knew he lost that one. Fuck it. Fuck this whole situation and fuck this stubborn Omega. Metaphorically.   
Snow white teeth bared the next second he left the doorframe to enter the room, drowning the atmosphere in his presence as he makes a beeline to the boy still standing between the piano and the bench, fingertips brushing the top of the white keys just a little; almost like a loving, caressing touch.   
Jongin wondered what a Piano was to the Omega.   
And maybe he would ask later and maybe he would get an answer, but for now he placed his large, tanned hands around pale wrists, pulling them upwards for a better look. That must’ve hurt, but yet again; there was no reaction. Not even the bat of an eyelash. Maybe Suho was right.   
But for now, he keeps his eyes on the red, angry looking lines scattered across skin so thin, Jongin felt as if he was able to look right through it. Not for the first time Jongin thought that the boy could be real artwork when just his face wouldn’t look he died on the inside long already – but on top of that, the fact that the boy was beautiful frustrated him even more, while he fails his job miserably.   
Pitch black eyes scanning over the scarred and hurt skin, he feels his nose twitch in distaste. Some of them really looked bad; worse than they did yesterday when he had the last look onto the Omega. “I might need to stitch these up.”   
No movement in that blood and energy-drained face. No fear, no approval.   
He wondered how he managed that; to have total control over his entire body, his wolf and even his eyes. Jongin even envied him for that a little – even if he didn’t mind to be lead by instincts most of his life. That was what he was born for after all.   
Same as the Omega in front of him; he just kind of seemed to missed out on that message.   
He gave the arms a slight tug, this time careful enough to not rip open another scabbed wound. Fresh blood was a bitch to get out of his carpet and another wound meant another way for the boy to close up. Was it really that hard to understand that he wanted to help in the end? Even if his ways were rather rough and unlikely; the were the ones of a wolf and it drove him insane on the inside.   
On the outside he kept his calm posture, his eyes almost closed, fingers tight around the wrist and body close enough to provide warmth and wrap the other once again in his scent like a blanket. It was the way he knew to comfort Omegas in distress.   
But this Omega wasn’t in distress, this Omega wasn’t even really in the room anymore – gone the second his fingers left the piano. Just the shell of something he had a glimpse of just a few seconds ago, something more than just human. So his efforts went unnoticed and unappreciated, just answered with an empty stare out of eyes in the color of flowing honey.   
The sun started to set.   
And the just kept on standing there; not moving, just breathing. One losing himself slowly while the other was long lost already.  
Jongin was stupid. Stupid enough to assume that the incident a couple of days ago would change anything – the brat opening up, maybe.   
But he was so wrong and it ate him away day by day, annoyance settling together with disappointment; for himself, but blaming the boy in his house for it alone.   
Everytime he’d came home, finding the rooms empty, it seemed like the others presence reached its peak the day he played the piano like belonged there. Jongin wasn’t even sure anymore, if the boy even ate.   
There were no more bread crumbs, no more tousled blanket. No splattered droplets of blood and no hushing shadow, giving away how the other just disappeared again. Therefor it was like Jongin was living with a ghost, alone most days. And something inside of his chest didn’t settle right with it; something beyond the anger he felt.   
After he cleaned the messy cuts on the others wounds that day, his tanned and rough fingers grazing the uneven skin, he tried. He tried so hard.  
He tried to stay away but found himself coming after the boy.  
He tried to stay calm and warm; soothing even. But ended up raising his hand at the smaller when there was no reaction again.  
He tried to stay firm and stern, but couldn’t help to crumble away every time his eyes crossed path with the dead orbs of the Omega.   
He tried not to care, he tried giving him away. Giving up.  
But here he was again, sitting on the last step of the cold and grey stairs that led to the equally cold basement; his elbows resting on top of his knees, with his eyes fixated on the huddled mess in the corner of the small room. Was he even a mess? Jongin didn’t know – a mess was supposed to be lively, storming with emotions of any kind. But whatever sat in the corner was none of that – maybe more like a pathetic excuse of a mess.   
The Alpha sighed; he sat there for an hour already, thinking about what to do. Work left him sore and tired, his shoulders tense and the back of his head pounding. And it got worse with every minute those dead, dull eyes stared back into his own, barely blinking.   
They made a step forward, just to fall back into a black pit once again.  
His hands came up, fingertips pressing into his temple as he massages them with a soft sigh that sounded like a gun-shot, cutting through the tense atmosphere.  
“Look.” He presses out through gritted teeth. “Don’t make this harder for us than it already is.” And he wasn’t lying; for once in his life, this was hard. So unbelievable hard. “Why won’t you just work with me?”   
He wasn’t expecting an answer and he didn’t get one.  
The only response he got was another deep breathe and unmoving eyes that stared holes into his skull in the most subtle way he had ever experienced. It made his headache worse, his eyelids heavier and the wolf inside of him searing with anger. This was such a fucked up situation.  
“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, kid. But I won’t have that shit – I tolerate you bleeding all over my fucking house, I let you rub your scent all over the goddamn house. For fucks sake, I even let you walk around freely.” He was out of breathe – why was he out of breathe? But he wasn’t planning on stopping. “I provide you everything, food, water, you could even use the shower, if you wanted. The TV. The fridge. The Piano. Do you know what kind of privilege that is? We could’ve just kept you in the institute. You know what you would’ve had there?” Originally, Jongin didn’t intend it to come out as a snarled threat; but even in his own ears It came off as exactly that. And he went on – not that the pile in the corner cared.   
“White walls, one meal a day. No blankets, no luxury. A bed and training, real fucking training. And you know who took you out of there? Guess what? Me.” Not that this was something to take pride in, but Jongin was far from realizing that at the very moment. “I took you out of there, basically taking you on vacation. And what do I get in return?”  
Was that bitter laugh sounding through the room really his?  
“You keep on dying on. I don’t want you to be grateful.” Yes, that’s exactly what he wanted. “But you can’t even cooperate the slightest, you just keep on dying.” Another heavy breathe, his rant not finished yet. “And you know what? I don’t care. You want to end this? Continue like this and I’ll be the one putting the trigger to your head and pulling it, for all the fucking right reason.” The last sentence made him shiver, wolf inside of his chest letting out a warning growl at the thought of being the one to kill the boy out of poor anger and grief. But he kept going. Of course he does.  
Reckless, reckless Jongin.   
“I should’ve never wasted my time on you. I should’ve passed you on to another asshole that’s even worse than me, someone who scored to break you into pieces with sheer force. Because you know what? Breaking yourself seems the only thing you seem to want and understand, so why the fucking hell not?” He noticed how his voice raised in volume, his breath quickens and he just started to burn with anger; the air heavy with it, hanging low and penetrating, even in his own nose.   
But as always, the Omega in the corner, that damn corner, didn’t budge, just stared at him as if he just sang a song and had casually smalltalk with the other. Of course, what would’ve changed. What did he expect to be different? That a verbal outbreak instead of a physical one would change anything? “Of-fucking-course.”   
He wanted a cigarette. Or maybe two.   
“I am so done with this. Done with you. Done with this shit you are pulling. I am too old for a kindergarten and babysitting a shitty corpse!” Usually, Jongin would regret saying words this harsh, this emotional. This worked up and lost. But not this time. Instead he threw his arms in the air, knuckles hitting the wall beside him, before he got up, ignoring the burning pain in his hand and in his head that seemed to add up within seconds. “Starve to death down here, I really don’t give a single shit.” He grunted, words gruff and harsh, before he turned around, steps heavy, whole body screaming to sit back down and stay. But when did he listen? Jongin never did that. So he just threw the wooden door shut behind him, rattling in its hanging, leaving a silent Omega back down there, and a raging, fuming Alpha with messy hair and pained expression in the living room, drowning his frustration in Whiskey and a pack of cigarette.  
After that day, the leftovers of food started to reappear, together with fingerprints all over his dusty furniture.


End file.
